Monday, December 31, 2012

SPAL: She wanted to do this for Christmakah but we were too busy running and hiding from the Glowstick.

HB: Yeah. He was everywhere, moving as fast as a super hero, chasing us around. He’d poke our eyes and picked our noses.

SPAL: Uh-huh! He even hit me with a spoon and climbed into my little house with me.

HB: Whatever happened to our sweet-little-Glowstick-baby? When he first came around, all he’d do was sit in a chair or lay in a blanket. He even slept a lot.

SPAL: ***shrugs*** I hear Mummsy say all the time kids are different today.

HB: What’s that supposed to mean?

SPAL: ***shrugs***

HB: And it wasn’t fair that he got to eat at the table, too. What’s up with that?

SPAL: Yeah. I know. He got a special chair, too.

HB: How come we don’t get a special chair to sit in at the table?

SPAL: I don’t know.

HB: Do you think Mummsy and Daddy-O are being racist because we have fur and they don’t?

SPAL: Never. ***rolls his eyes*** I think you need to stop while you’re ahead. Mummsy and Daddy-O love us. Anyway, I was disappointed that I didn’t get the interview questions out to everyone as planned. Sorry.

HB: Yeah. Sorry.

SPAL: But we do have guests for January.

HB: But not for February. Right?

SPAL: So Mummsy invited someone named, Toy Boy, to fill in on the weeks we don’t have a guest.

HB: Toy Boy?

SPAL: ***shrugs*** Mummsy says she has plans for Daddy-O. That’s all I know.

***

Before we go, we wanted to tell you that Mummsy has put her book up at Amazon. It’s only in paperback for now. Sometime this month it should be available as an ebook. She’s planning on a party then. If you want to go look, just click the link below the book.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Oh boy! The first Wednesday of the month comes real fast. It’s time again for Alex J. Cavanaugh's Insecure Writer’s Group where we writers can either tell about what we’re afraid of or offer encouragement.

Today, I’m going to try and keep it short. It’s 6:16 AM at my house. All is silent up until 7 AM. I’ve got Glowstick again.

And it looks like he’ll be staying around for awhile. I posted about it at my other blog last Friday over at Secondhand Shoes. Since that blog, I’ve learned that my daughter now stays drunk as much as she can and got back into mildly using her drug of choice-whatever that could mean.

We all have storms we go through. This one has been looming over me since I heard my daughter was expecting Glowstick. When he was four months old he lived with us for about eight weeks. The state was called and they did nothing in his defense to keep him safe which blew my court filings for custody out the window. The state had me return him because the county my daughter lives in wanted the case there-for funding purposes most likely.

So I ask that you all pray for Glowstick and my daughter as well. Me, too. I’m juggling and my insides are a little sick this morning because the state will be involved again.

Also, remember to pray for the Storm Sandy victims. My sister-in-law was one of them. She had two houses, one a rental, and the other vacation house, on The Shore were both flooded and smashed to smithereens. And her only son has autism. The storm has really rocked this kid’s world apart. The vacation house was used for his peace of mind and the family’s on the weekends. Now its gone.

And also, we all need to remember to keep this blogosphere in our prayers and send out positive thoughts to one another. Each one of us has our own personal storm that we struggle with and we need to remember that and not get mad if someone doesn't visit or comment on our posts. Crap happens. And sometimes certain things have to be set aside in order for those to get through the damage of their own personal storm.

So this blog is going on hiatus. I’m thinking up until January sometime. ***shrugs*** But I will read and comment as much as time will allow me between Glowstick, work, and getting Secondhand Shoes out there-and the writing of the next novel.

And please remember to give to the Red Cross. If everyone donated just a dollar, the people in need because of Storm Sandy would recover quicker.

Hugs and chocolate!

Shelly

PS I won’t be able to visit any blogs today. Apologies. But I’ll be around tomorrow and Friday. Crossing my fingers.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

SPAL: Yes. But we’re not going to mess around today. Glowstick is back and he requires a lot of attention.

HB: Maybe we can get him some good treats, too.

SPAL: We need to stay focused today, stupid. Let me handle the interview and you just keep quiet. And no leg-hugging either.

HB: ***frowns***

SPAL: We’re proud to bring you, Norma Beishir.

HB: Hello, nice lady. What do you like to snack on when you’re writing? Tell us why you like it. ***He looks at SPAL and whispers*** See, I did good.

SPAL: ***nods***

NB: I like a lot of things, but dark chocolate-covered raisins are my favorite. They're soft and sweet and loaded with antioxidants. I love cheesecake, but if I eat cheesecake, I forget all about the writing. Besides, cheesecake causes writer's butt.

SPAL: Later.***whispers back to HB and turns to Norma***Do the chocolate-covered raisins get your creative juices flowing?

NB: It gets a lot of things flowing...but that's a good thing. Most of the time.

HB: Will chocolate covered raisins get rid of dingleberry-butt issues?

SPAL:***whispers*** Don’t embarrass us. ***He looks at Norma*** Do you have any fur or feathered-peeps you like to share your nosh with?

NB: I had a feathered peep who used to be my main muse. Sam. He's gone now. I miss him a lot. He did indeed insist upon sharing my snacks, so no chocolate when he was here. I had fruit. He loved apples. And Honey Nut Cheerios. He liked to dunk them in water like donuts.

SPAL: Shh! ***he whispers to HB and looks at Norma***Do they help you write like we help our Mummsy write? She says we’re her muses.

NB: Fur and feathered peeps are great muses. Sam was one of mine. I also had a pig, a couple of dogs, rabbits...everything but snakes. Snakes are bad. You can't trust snakes. They steal your work and eat your lunch.

SPAL: We’ll remember that and tell Mummsy that one.Do you have any published books out there that your pets helped you with?

NB: Oh, there are a lot of those—sixteen so far. Do you want all of them, or just a few?

SPAL: Thank you for sharing those. Please share an excerpt from your work in progress if you have something else you’re working on.

NB: With pleasure! This excerpt in from one of my four works in progress—the working title is Sucker-Punched, and is about five rowdy brothers (their only sister is one of the protagonists of An Army of Angels, sequel to Chasing the Wind—how's that for complicated?). The Cantwell brothers are pro-wrestlers with a real talent for getting into trouble....

I was in the center of the ring with my brother Mike hoisted high above my head, poised for a body slam. The crowd was roaring. It was great. I love it when the fans go crazy like that. Pro wrestling fans are the most verbal, least politically-correct fans in the world. That's what makes them so great—in my opinion, anyway. This is a crazy life, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Mike was trying to break free. “Come on, Paulie,” he gasped. “This is the third time this week!”

“They love it, Mike,” I told him. “Listen to them!”

“Listen to me, you idiot,” he shot back at me. “I'm your brother!”

“Not here, you're not,” I said, preparing to make my move. In the ring, we weren't brothers. I was the Punisher—no relation to the comic book guy—a Heel, a bad guy, of the first order, and my kid brother was a Face, a good guy known as Pretty Boy. That was a stretch. Mike's a long way from pretty.

“I love you, bro,” he pleaded.

“I love you, too.” Then I slammed him to the mat.

***

“Was it my imagination, or were you enjoying that, bonehead?" Mike asked when we went backstage to the locker room afterward.

I grinned. "What do you think? "

"I think you're an asshole, " my brother said. "I think you like beating the crap out of me."

"I like winning."

“I was supposed to win.”

“You did.”

“Only by disqualification.” Mike was looking for something in his locker. Pain meds, probably. Who said to be a wrestler means being in constant pain? I can't remember—but whoever he was, the dude was right. Bruises, broken bones, torn muscles, concussions....

I was about to head off to the showers but got sidetracked. The reigning heavyweight champion, Mad Dog Mueller, came barging into the locker room, duffel in hand. Mad Dog is the biggest, ugliest creature to ever walk the earth—three hundred-plus pounds of pure mean and a face that looked like it had been on the losing end of a fight with a meat cleaver. There are few movie star faces in wrestling, but Mad Dog's got a face only his legally blind mother could love. And I'm not sure about her devotion to the beast.

His match was next up and he was just getting there. "You do know you're late, right? " I asked. “You're going to be the cause of the boss' next scheduled stroke.”

Mad Dog glared at me. Most of the heels in pro wrestling are nothing like their ring personas, but Mad Dog really is a world-class jackass. "What are they gonna do, start without me? " he asked, pulling off his street clothes. "I'm the champ. It's my show."

"Sure it is, champ, " I said, nodding. Mike was looking from one of us to the other but not saying a word. He didn't have to, really. He thought Mad Dog and me were about to brawl right there in the locker room. It wouldn't have been the first time. But no, I had no desire to roll around on the locker room floor with a naked Mad Dog. The other guys might come in and get the wrong idea, y'know?

“Mad Dog--” Mike started.

“Shut up, loser!” Mad Dog wasn't interested in anything either of us had to say. He pulled on his robe--he was one of the few who still wore a robe out to the ring anymore--and hoisted the heavyweight championship belt onto his shoulder with a smug look on his ugly mug. His entrance theme began, filling the arena with eardrum-splitting heavy metal music as he headed for the ring.

"Don't you think we should have told him? " Mike asked as we went out to the entrance to watch.

I grinned. "And ruin the surprise? No way! "

The crowd greeted old Mad Dog with the usual chant: "You suck! You suck!" He leaped into the ring and threw off his robe, his arms outstretched to allow the unworthy a view of his physique, which was a lot better than his face, visually speaking.

That's when the audience--and Mad Dog--realized he'd forgotten his trunks. The idiot was standing in the middle of the ring, in front of fifty thousand people-- and--God knows how many watching on TV--butt naked!

SPAL: Oooo… this is a really good excerpt. Thank you for sharing with us.

HB: But can’t someone tell me what a dingleberry-butt issue is? Am I going to die from this?

***

Before Hair Ball and I leave, we wanted to remind you tomorrow is Alex J. Cavanaugh’s Insecure Writer’s Group. Mummsy will be posting for that but will be on hiatus through January. At this time the exact date is unclear.

Glowstick is back and he’s walking on two legs now. And he goes everywhere. He never stops.

So Mummsy will be reading blogs and commenting only. She’s been running around the house a lot when Glowstick isn’t sleeping or when she’s away at the Salon.

And also, she’s been wrangling with Create Space to get her margins done correctly for Secondhand Shoes. Only one page came up with a problem this morning.

In the meantime, Hair Ball and I will be dropping by your email boxes for some new interviews for next year.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

SPAL: Not yet! That’s tomorrow. Today is where we help support new and Indie authors. We share their published and unpublished work with us and they share their nosh with us. But just in case, I’ve got my costume on, too. I’m a vampire.

HB: Maybe today’s guest will give us a nice Halloween treat.

SPAL: Maybe. She’s the author of Zombie Dog.

HB: Is it anything like The Walking Dead? That’s one of Mummsy’s favorite shows. Mine, too.

SPAL: You’re going to have to get the book and read it. Anyway, I think I see Ms. Charmaine coming. She has a beautiful head of red curls.

CC: My gym trainer told me I could make cookies as long as I put in healthy ingredients like oats and bran. I interpreted that to mean cups of sugar, butter and... lollies. Yep, pretty sweet.

HB: Oooo…that sounds really good.

SPAL: Do tell us nice lady, does it get your creative juices flowing?

CC: If I'm honest, a brisk walk or a work out and lots of water are the best ways to get the creative juices flowing... but where's the fun in that?

HB: But I like to go for a walk. I like outside. Want to go? I’m ready. You can take me trick or treating since Mummsy has to work.

SPAL: ***he elbows his brother*** Stop bugging the nice lady. Trick or treat is tomorrow. ***he looks at Charmaine*** Have you published any books? If so, what are they? Where can we find them?

CC: I've published My Zombie Dog - a fun tale about a boy and his undead mutt. It's currently available on Amazon inKindle format or paperback.

CC: Thanks so much Sir Poops and Hair Ball for letting me share on your blog today. I'd love to share My Zombie Dog by giving away a couple of Kindle copies - say the first two people to leave their email in your comments and I'll send them off a Kindle copy. :)

SPAL: We enjoyed having you.

HB: But where’s my treat? I got all dressed up for trick or treat. And I want my treat.

***

Also, Gail Baugniet is having a giveaway to celebrate the release of her new book, FOR EVERY ACTION There Are Consequences, HERE

And too, DM Yates has her first novel out, Always, Love is Eternal. You can find it HERE for 3.99.

I don’t think there are any rules with this one. But then again, who needs rules? I say make them up as you go and break the ones that don’t work. That’s my rule.

***

And I got tagged again by The Writing Nut from HERE for the Look Challenge.

The Rules? Count up the LOOKs in your current WIPs and choose your favorite three. Then post the paragraphs around the word.

She walked to the entrance of his room, grabbed the closed door’s handle, cracked it open, and peeked into the dimly lit room. His bed hadn’t been slept in. “Great,” she said through a sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “Lord, please don’t let him be on the way to see Pixie. But if he does make sure he gets C.J. and brings him back here,” she prayed. “Please let Larry and the baby be safe. Please God. Please.” Her son wouldn’t be all messed up on dope if it weren’t for that girl taking him further down the wrong path. Only God could help now.

The I-phone buzzed on the bedside table next to Faith Wise. It didn’t take much to wake her up. She was a light sleeper anyway and she sat straight up, looking down at the buzzing phone. The flashing screen lit up half the bedroom. The digital clock beside the annoying phone glowed yellow: 1:37 AM.

“What is wrong with you?” Joe looked at his watch. The shower would start in twenty minutes and he lived a good half-hour away from where he needed to take the tables. “You need to pull your brains out of your ass and pull up your pants and be a man. You’ve got a kid coming into the world and one already here.” For some reason, no matter how many lectures he gave his twenty-three year old son about being responsible, the boy did what he wanted to anyway. Nothing. The kid couldn’t keep a job and didn’t seem to care if he and his pregnant girlfriend slept outside in a tent or even on the hard driveway for that matter. The boy’s dumber than rabbit playing with a fox, he thought.

This concludes my LOOK project. Although, I will need to tag some peeps in this. But I’ll do this another time. Hey! Rules are made to accommodate mwa.

***

SWEETMAN SAYS

“There’s a difference between Starkey Park bird poop and city bird poop.”

I didn’t know that. How about you? I also wonder what the difference is. The smell? Color? Consistency? ***shrugs***

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

SPAL: You know where we help promote an author’s published or unpublished works.

HB: Oh yeah. So we can get some delicious foodies.

SPAL: Today we have Lorelei Bell and one of her kitties. I love kitties. I miss mine.

HB: Looks like the one below is snacking on some toes. Toe licking is good. I love Daddy-o'’s toes. No-No’s, too. They’re quite tasty.

SPAL: ***looks through a pile*** Ut-oh!

HB: What?

SPAL: I can’t find my interview.

HB: You did this last week with Gwen Gardner and Angela Brown. You’ve got Alzheimer's for sure. Two times in a row. ***puts his paws on his hips*** And I hear Lorelei makes deadly chocolate chip cookies and chocolate cake. And now we don’t get any because of you.

Sabrina Strong is a Touch Clairvoyant who knows a secret. She knows her mother was turned into a vampire when Sabrina was ten. Now that she is grown up, a powerful magnate in the Chicago business world hires her to reveal the identity of who relentlessly murders vampires in his ultra-modern stronghold of a hotel.Sabrina is not thrilled about the aspect of working for vampires, but she needs the money, and she wants to find the gorgeous and mysterious vampire who has been turning up in her dreams. Is he the one who bit her when she was ten, marked her for his own, and turned her mother so long ago?Little does Sabrina know that her whole life is about to change when her best friend becomes a victim, too, and Sabrina is the only one who can find her. Her friend’s fate intensifies the desperate need to find the murderer and, consequently, brings her into contact with a rogue vampire.Sabrina is quickly immersed in romantic trysts and dangerous situations involving scheming vampires, shift changers, and werewolves.With Vampire Ascending, Lorelei Bell has created a unique and mesmerizing mystery blending intricately detailed fantasy and romance within a contemporary setting. Her story features strong character development and provides new insights on a vampire’s life including love, passion, heartache, hope, devastation, lust, and longing. Moreover, Vampire Ascending is an action-packed plot full of surprises. Bell delivers a well-written and satisfying story that will leave the reader wanting more.

Lorelei Bell has created another unique and mesmerizing mystery masterwork that tops its prequel Vampire Ascending in drama, fast-paced action, love, passion, heartache, and devastation.New friends, new adventures, shocking revelations, and harrowing experiences make for riveting reading in this second installment of the Sabrina Strong Series.Sabrina learns more details - through Vasyl's recounting of his human and vampire life – of what her role as a sibyl means and how the past and the future will come together. She finally learns what role Vasyl has played in his search for the next sibyl and why she is so tremendously important.As Sabrina’s partner Dante puts himself at risk to help all of mankind, Sabrina learns why newcomer Bill Gannon is so interested in her, and she works to protect Bjorn Tremayne from losing it all. Sabrina’s past catches up to her, and she discovers that not everyone is, or was, what she thought. New characters, some kind and trustworthy and some not, contribute to a captivating story line, and Sabrina finds herself on a journey she never thought possible.

No one could resist his powerful will and mesmerizing gaze. Women flocked to him for his "blessings". Was Rasputin a holy man? Or was he something else, something evil... something no one could imagine?

While taking her usual short cut through the cemetery one night, sixteen year old Karen Murdock meets handsome Lute Riley. Over the next few nights a romance blossoms. But when her best friend, Angeline, becomes sick and dies suddenly, Karen realizes that Lute had been seeing her on the sly.Karen wants revenge. But can she kill a vampire?

Is it true that people who have died a terrible death must return asghosts, and repeat those terrifying moments time and time again? Whatof those who witnessed such horrific scenes and could do nothing aboutit?James couldn't prevent what happened to his new wife, Joan, who diedat the hands of a monstrous murderer, and was powerless to stophim--and yet he was tried, found guilty of her murder, and hung. Jamesis doomed to re-live those horrifying guilt-ridden moments forever.This is his story.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

SPAL: Here we are again. Another Tuesday where we help support our new and Indie authors.

HB: Yeah. It’s all for the food. The author shares their published work or something from whatever they’re working on. And we get some really good nosh.

SPAL: ***rolls his eyes*** Do you ever stop thinking about food?

HB: ***smiles*** Never.

SPAL: Anyway, before Lena Winfrey stops by we’re doing a giveaway.

HB: Yeah. It’s something that you two-legged-no-fur-peeps love.

SPAL: Yes. We are giving away The Great White Watery Abyss of torture along with a few torture tools.

HB: Yeah. This is what we endured yesterday.

SPAL: I just don’t understand why you two-legged-no-fur-peeps think this is great. But anyway since you do let us know in the comment box below if you’d like your name thrown into the drawing. We’re looking forward to giving this away.

HB: Yeah.

SPAL: Now that we’ve taken care of this, we’d like to introduce you to Lena Winfrey.

HB: Hey nice, lady ! What did you bring us…I mean what do you like to nosh on when you're writing? Tell us why you like it.

LW: It depends on my mood and what I’m writing. Also, if I’m extremely involved in a manuscript and things are flowing well, then I sometimes forget to eat, until I actually start having a growling stomach. Serious! But when I’m formulating a strategy or just find myself in need of a snack I will eat either crunchy carrots, peanuts or nacho chips. But usually I tend to go sweet and prefer something with chocolate, especially if I feel bit drained. I enjoy dark chocolate the most, and I try to go with bite size ones always to control the portion size. And when I want to rehydrate I might drink 100% juice; pure is always better. And if I need something to pick me up, then I drink a cup of Nescafe coffee (mostly 0% milk with a teaspoon of instant coffee). Occasionally, I might forget about monitoring my diet and just eat something ‘devilishly delicious’!

HB: Oh… this is good. Carrots, peanuts, and nachos. Chocolate and coffee. Did you bring us any?

LW: The food doesn’t really give me a creative spark, but what it does it either relax me or give me a jolt of energy that helps me in the creative process. I don’t depend on food for this creativity. If I’m stuck on something, I might go for a walk, read another book, look an another project I have just to free my mind, or watch a bit of TV. I might even listen to a bit of music. Once I relax and ponder in my mind the situation, I can usually come up with some strategy. Sometimes I solve these issues in my sleep and awaken with new ideas.

HB: Food sparks me right up. It gets me thinking how I can get more.

SPAL: ***he elbows HB***Sh! ***he looks at Lena and smiles***Do you have any published books out there? If so, what are they? Where can we find them?

In Spring 2011, I published The Metamorphosis of a Muslim with IIPH, an overseas publisher. This autobiography discusses my background, my spiritual journey and my world travels through Africa, the Middle East and Asia. It can be found at:

I have been switching over to mostly fiction at the moment though I still keep up with poetry and writing reviews and interviews for fellow authors. I am currently working on two novels and a screenplay adaptation. I also have an original screenplay in the works. My paranormal novel is a bit unique, and it might become a triology. I like to write on a variety of topics, depending upon what I’m passionate about and inspired to write. I still have some non-fiction projects planned for the future.

My blog Pearldrops on the Page was intended as a place to discuss the power of words, inspirational topics and writing. Lately I have featured some of my reviews and interviews with authors. Check it out at: http://PearldropsonthePage.blogspot.com

I would like to share a WIP, especially since it is my first move into fiction as a novel.

Also, I will share an excerpt with you from my paranormal romance that is a WIP (so please excuse the editing for now); it is a story set in the Appalachian Mountain region. I might change the title, but for now I call it Love Rediscovered. It has vampires, werewolves, shape shifters and witches. It also has an amazing love story with obstacles and lots of adventure.

Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Love Rediscovered:

“Damn, I must be crazy to go back,” muttered Clara to herself. “Why? Why is this so important to me? What do I expect out of this trip?”

Clara Walker had spent years trying to escape her past. She left her hometown, changed her Southern accent and tried to become someone else. She had concentrated on her career. Yet, as she grew older, she sought her origins. She needed her roots. She had other reasons to return; maybe she should stay away because of the pain, but she was also drawn to Bluefield, Virginia.

Clara drove her silver Mercedes C Class that she had inherited from her mother around the curves of the mountainous Appalachian Mountain region. She reached the border between North Carolina and Virginia at a place called Fancy Gap on the mountains; she dreaded it even in the daytime. She wanted to avoid traffic, so she left Raleigh at night. The full moon would peak out from the clouds from time to time, but the fog was so intense that she feared she might veer off the road. She prayed silently. She scolded herself for not waiting until morning. Finally, she reached the top and it leveled out. She sighed relief as she stopped off at a gas station to fill up on gas and snacks. She was badly in need of a caffeine fix.

Clara wasn’t in a talkative mood, but the lonely bearded attendant engaged her in conversation. “Where ya headed, missy?”

“Bluefield. I’m on my way for my class reunion.”

“Bluefield? If I wuz you, I wouldn’t go.”

“Why not?” she asked incredulously.

“I’ve heard stories about strange happenin’s there.”

Yeah right. In Bluefield! She recalled the quiet, sleepy town of her childhood.

“Like what?” she asked curiously.

The fearful attendant with saucer eyes leaned over and whispered, “I dun heard some people have gone missin’ while others turned up dead with strange things done to their bodies.”

Clara almost laughed. Evidently, he was either joking with her or lost in a fairytale. Little Bluefield in the heart of the Bible Belt? No way! Albeit she hadn’t been back for a few years, and last time was only to bury her mother. Her father had passed away a couple of years before. Clara was an only child who had inherited their spacious house, yet she left it untouched.

Clara replied to the attendant, “Are you sure these stories are true?”

“Yes, ma’am. I get my news from my CB radio and my truck drivin’ friends. They’re always passin’ through Bluefield. And believe me, they pass through quickly!”

“Well, I’ll take my chances. I grew up there and it used to be a nice place. I’m sure these are just stories.”

The attendant finished packing her items into the bag. He slipped in a silver cross as a gift. She later found it in the bag with a small note that said, “Please wear this gift.” For some reason, she actually put it on. It was small and elegant.

Clara continued her journey and almost fell asleep. She tried changing channels on the radio as well as rolling down the windows to feel the nippy fresh air. She passed through Big Walker Mountain tunnel. She often wondered if it had been named after an ancestor of hers. Then, she went through East River Mountain’s tunnel, which used to be one of the first and longest tunnels in the world. She hated going through long tunnels. It made her claustrophobic. She breathed again upon exiting it.

She absorbed the landscape and compared it to her memory. Not much had changed, so far as she could tell, in this small town. Bluefield was a city on the borders of Virginia and West Virginia. She had grown up on the Virginia side and had attended Graham High School.

Her silent musings were broken by the howling of some wolves. Fear leaped into her heart. She had never heard such howling before. She rolled up her windows and turned on the heat. She put on soft music to settle her nerves. The crisp October wind bit sharper than she could remember.

She needed less than three miles to reach her house located in the prestigious Sedgewood area. Her parents were one of the original people to settle in that community. They built a magnificent house, for its time. She wished the road were shorter. She was getting spooked. Of course, it was late, and she had only passed two cars on the way. The town seemed empty. The trees bent under the strong winds as rainbow leaves flew through the air. Bluefield always had the most beautifully painted trees during autumn. Clara felt something eerie, as if someone were watching her.

“Oh, come on Clara!” she chided herself. “Stop being paranoid. You let that old man spook you. Get a grip!”

Clara turned off the radio and continued on in silence. Little did she know, but she was being watched by several people, actually creatures, who had just finished a quarrel on the mountain top.

“She’s here. Finally!” exclaimed a male.

“Are you sure about this? You can’t force her to feel the same,” replied the female.

“Wait and see. You know I always get what I want.”

Clara couldn’t hear the commotion, but two groups had fought and partly because of her. Each party managed to slink back to their lairs. Clara managed to park in front of her house. It seemed strange to say ‘her house.’ She was still trying to get used to the idea that her parents were no longer there. She was hoping they would open the doors and run out to greet her with open arms. Alas, reality slapped her hard as she dug into her purse for her keys. She entered the dark house. She smelled the mustiness as she switched on the light with a little prayer that it still worked. Everything was the way she had left it. She then dead-bolted the door with both locks and carried her suitcase into her old bedroom. She collapsed into bed and decided to deal with everything in the morning.

Thank you very much, SIr Poops and Hair Ball!

SPAL: You’re very welcome. And to all the other peeps, Mummsy’ll be working today so we’ll be back later to answer your comments and draw a name for The Great White Watery Abyss of torture.

HB: Yeah. ***he turns to Lena***Can I have a carrot? I’ll give you this stupid pumpkin. There’s a prize inside. The squeaker.

The Open Vein: For Up to Date Info On E-Publishing

I'm Loved

The Irresistibly Sweet Award

The Stylish Blogger Award

Secondhand Shoes, A Novel

About Me

Wife. Mother of five grown daughters and two dogs, Honey Bear and Sir Poops-A-Lot. Hairdresser at forty hours a week. An author the rest of the time.
Finished novel, Secondhand Shoes. Currently, you can find it on Amazon, in paperback only. I went Indie, folks.
Working on a series now. White Trash and Pill Heads. Title, subject to change.
Member of Florida Writer's Association, Community Writer's Digest, and Writers of Mass Distraction.
And, feeling stressed and overwhelmed.
Oh, and did I mention, I'm the Frag Queen.